


The Frog Prince

by JET_Playin



Series: Drarry Tales [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Established Relationship, Fairy Tale Curses, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JET_Playin/pseuds/JET_Playin
Summary: Draco is cursed! Can he make it back to Harry and lift the curse?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarry Tales [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653493
Comments: 11
Kudos: 124





	The Frog Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Next up, the froggy prince! Thank you so much for your wonderful beta work and letting me rant about this series at you, Triggerlil! ❤️ You're wonderful!
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> I don't own Harry Potter or affiliated characters and locations

"I don't know what happened," Penelope cried, throwing back her hood. "My spell was ruined!" 

"It's okay, this isn't over. We'll try again." 

"What if—" someone began, then quieted. 

"What if what?" their leader asked, his voice firm and confident. 

"Well, it obviously wasn't enough to force Malfoy to show the coldness of his heart." Murmurs of agreement met the statement and, emboldened, he went on. "What if we show Harry how ugly he really is?" 

The leader nodded. "Yes, I like that. But what is as ugly on the outside as he is at his core?" 

Again, they plotted. 

-

Already late, Draco made his way hurriedly through Diagon Alley. His lunch had ended all of two minutes before and the alley was packed tighter than sardines in a tin— Merlin, he had to stop spending so much time with Harry. Draco had never even seen a tin of sardines. Still, he hugged the sides of the alley in an attempt to avoid the worst of the crowd. He didn’t dare leave Diagon altogether, not since he had been cursed. Of course, that had happened on Diagon, but he knew it was safer by far to meet a foe in a crowd than on one’s own.

Picking up speed, he slid past every opening between buildings as quickly as he could, wary of the patrons coming and going from the smaller Alleys that forked away from Diagon. For all the good that did him, he thought bitterly as a flash of red light shot out of Knockturn Alley and he fell to the ground, his vision going dark.

When he next opened his eyes, he had no idea how much time had passed or, indeed, where he was. Voices boomed around him, but he couldn't make his eyes cooperate. 

"It didn't work," someone sobbed. "He's not hideous at all!" 

"Shhh," another voice insisted. "Someone's coming."

"It'll still work," a third assured them as their voices drifted away. "He'll never be with…"

With a groan, Draco's eyes fluttered open at last, but the people who had spoken were gone. He lay flat on his chest, his neck stiff, his vision warped. A concussion, he thought. Splendid. 

He tested his limbs gingerly, lifting one hand, then the other. They felt soft, rubbery, but they moved. And, when he lifted himself up, they held his weight. Now for the legs. Sighing, he dropped his head as far as his neck would bend (which wasn't much) then froze, the blood in his veins running icy. 

There, where his hands should be, were two wrinkled, white  _ things  _ with spindly appendages, each topped with a little ball of flesh. Giving up on slow and steady, he sprang to his feet, staggered a step or two, then fell forward with a wet  _ plop.  _

Something was very, very wrong. 

Harry, he thought. He had to find Harry. Being a Cursebreaker was worth fuck all when you were the one who was cursed. Harry would get him to his colleagues and lift the spell.

Tentatively, Draco dragged one floppy foot forward, crawling bit by bit as he looked around for some landmark, a sign as to where he was. If he was lucky, he was still in Knockturn Alley, though he didn’t recognise anything about the narrow alley where he lay. The chatter he could hear through the haze of panic suggested Diagon Alley was close by, so he followed the sounds until he met a crossroad. 

Then he felt rather foolish. Looking up at the shop sign closest to him, Draco sighed. He was definitely in Knockturn Alley, and he was definitely a very small creature.

Clenching his jaw, he set off down the alley, toward the sounds of civilization. After ten minutes, though, he still hadn't reached it. There was nothing for it; he'd have to travel by the most convenient means, regardless of his dignity. Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard, pushed off with his back legs, and hopped. God, it was humiliating. He did it again. 

Within moments, he was leaving the shadows of Knockturn Alley and breaking into the sun and bustle of Diagon. Which, he realised quickly, was a much more dangerous place than it had been when he was human. Now, hugging the sides of the buildings was a requirement, lest he be trampled by shoppers or vendors. As it was, he had to dodge several small pairs of hands from enourmous children and he’d ducked for cover from hunting owls no less than five times before he reached the ministry.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to get in... 

-

Harry was bored. He thought of going to visit Draco in his office, but decided against it. He really should finish his paperwork, he knew. But it wasn't holding his attention like it should. He wanted a distraction. It was nearly time for him to head home, and freedom called to him, whispers in the slowly emptying halls of the DMLE. 

Desperate, he rummaged through his desk drawers until his fingers closed around a small golden ball, then pulled it out with a soft " _ aha _ !" He leaned back in his chair, propped his heels on the corner of his desk, and released the snitch with a smile. It zipped a few feet in the air, twitching this way and that before settling on a direction and spurring into action. At which point, Harry's hand shot out and grasped the gleaming metal, letting the little wings beat fruitlessly against his skin. 

When the wings slowed, nearly ready to retreat back into the snitch's shell, he released it again, then again. Catch, release, catch, release. He had a rhythm going when, suddenly, something cold and wet stuck itself to the back of his neck and he lurched to his feet. Twisting to and fro, he flapped his hands around the back of his neck, dancing about like a mad hippogriff. 

The thing—and it was definitely alive—crawled up over his neck and into his hair until its cold little feet met his forehead and Harry stilled. Lifting one hand, he reached up and wrapped his fingers delicately around a cool, smooth body, and plucked the thing from his head. 

It was a frog. A small, white thing with little pebbles of colour dotting its skin and big, grey eyes. 

"Hhhhaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrryyyy," it croaked, back legs twitching as if preparing to leap. 

Harry tightened his hold as much as he dared. "Now, how did you get in here, little fella?" he asked. "This is no place for a frog. Come along, I'll put you in a nice puddle."

He collected his Auror robes and was headed for the door when a strange sound emitted from the little creature in his hand. "Nnnnoooooooo," it seemed to say, but Harry didn’t notice.

He made his way up through the ministry, waving at those who greeted him, stopping only once to chat with one of Draco’s coworkers, but the little frog in his hand was twisting this way and that, his powerful hind legs flailing, seeking purchase on the edges of his prison. So, Harry continued on his way, finally breaking through into the afternoon sunlit street. 

There wasn’t much that looked terribly inviting to a frog, Harry thought, not on a busy city street. It didn’t take him long to find a shaded puddle of water, though, in a little corner where two buildings met unevenly. Bending, he lowered the frog toward it, chuckling when the thing tried to climb his arm, instead.

“It’s okay, little guy. You’ll like it there, I promise,” he said over the hysterical croaking. Taking the frog carefully off of his bicep, he lowered it once more, finally depositing it into the puddle.

The frog hopped immediately back out, then shot Harry a very human glare. Chuckling, Harry shook his head, fisting his hands on his hips. 

“Fine, don’t go in the puddle, just look out for birds, mate.”

And he turned to head back to work. Or, rather, his snitch. When he reached his office, he sat exactly as he had before he’d been interrupted, propped his feet exactly as they had been, and resumed his game of catch and release.

Twenty minutes passed, and Harry was becoming restless again. Even the snitch didn’t hold his attention for long. Maybe he would go visit Draco, after all. Lure him into leaving work early, picking up take away on their way home. Distracted by his thoughts, Harry forgot to catch the snitch until it was out of his reach, but he let it flutter around the room for a bit, content to watch it.

That was, until it flew low to the floor and a small white blur shot out, latching itself onto the golden ball and pinning it to the ground. Uncertain of what he’d seen, Harry stood and looked over his desk and to the floor, where the tiny white frog wrestled with the golden snitch.

“How-how did you get back in here?” Harry asked lamely. He rounded the desk and bent to pick up the frog-snitch blob, more than a bit confused. “How did you get into the building?”

Sinking back into his chair, he deposited the frog on his desk, securing the snitch back in its drawer.

“Hhaaaaarrrrrrrrryyyyyyy,” the frog croaked, and Harry stilled. Surely he hadn’t heard what he  _ thought  _ he heard...

"Hhaaaarrrryyy," it said again, and this time he was sure. 

"That's my— you spoke!" 

"Haaaarryyy."

"Merlin," Harry breathed. "How— how do you know my name?" 

One hairless brow arched over a bulbous eye. "Oaf," he croaked, and Harry was on his feet again. 

"Draco?" he asked, scooping the frog into his hands. "Baby, is that you? What happened?" 

"Curse… break… Harry."

"Shit, what do I do? I don't know how to—" 

"Oaf," Draco the frog said again. "Curse… breakers."

"Oh! Of course!" Heading for the door again, Harry lifted the frog to look into his eyes. "We'll fix this," he promised. "And then, you're getting a bloody bodyguard."

As if to seal the promise, he bent to press a kiss to the cold, wet lips of the frog, hoping in the back of his mind that it really was Draco, then set him on his shoulder for the walk. Almost as soon as he took his hand away, though, a flash of light lit his office and the little frog began to grow heavier and heavier, until Harry couldn't bear the weight of him. He stumbled, fell to his knees, and then to his stomach. But, where he'd set a frog moments before, now sat Draco, fully human and straddling Harry's head while he lay face down on the hardwood floor of his office. 

"Draco?" he asked. "Erm, what was that, exactly?" 

Draco scrambled off of him and turned him over, helping him to sit. "Fuck if I know. What did you do?" 

"I— I kissed you, that’s all." 

"They turned me into a fucking frog, Harry," Draco said calmly. "They. There were at least three of them. I don't need a bodyguard, I need them caught."

-

"You hopped along Diagon Alley?" Harry asked, hardly even trying to stifle his laughter. "But— but, how did you get into the ministry? How did you open the doors?" 

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Draco said, not for the first time. 

"But Draco, you were so little!" 

"I'm warning you, Potter."

"It's a bit like when you were turned into a ferr— Ow!" Harry sobered quickly as Draco tucked his wand back into his sleeve. "You're right, it's not funny. I'm just glad it wasn't something worse."

"So am I. Not to worry, I'll be better prepared next time."

Harry didn't want to have to hope he'd be okay. He wished he could know, for certain. Draco was a stubborn man, but he was more than competent. So Harry would hope. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ❤️


End file.
